9. Succor
Reno stared at Cissnei, wild-eyed and trembling.
"What do you mean we're lost?"
"Exactly what I just said," she snapped.
"It's a frickin' house! Just find a goddamn window!"
"Yeah? When did you last see one?"
"There was one just–" Reno cut himself off as he looked over his shoulder. "What the fuck, man?"
Rude slowly pivoted around. In the beam of his flashlight he saw nothing but walls and empty doorways.
"Look, take it easy, all right? We just need to stay calm and we'll be fine."
"Take it easy?" Reno's laughter, shrill and unnatural, echoed through the deserted rooms around them. "I'm fuckin' seein' things, Ciss! For all I know you're not even here!"
"Listen to me, okay? I'm right–"
Just as she reached for his hand, bright light flooded the room. Rude winced and threw a hand across his eyes.
"What's going on here?"
"Professor?" Cissnei lowered the arm she'd used to shield her own eyes, and rushed over to the other woman. "Do you know how to get to the foyer?"
"Of course I do," she said slowly. "It's right behind me."
Rude joined them just as she turned and pointed back the way she'd come. Through the doorway across the room, he saw a hallway bathed in light.
They had gathered in the foyer. Rude stood by the railing where he could keep an eye on both the main doors below and the threshold of the north wing. Reno sat to his left by an opened window, in the chair he had dragged there just to freak them out. He stared at his hands in silence as Cissnei gave the professor a rundown of the events.
"So none of you could find the exit?" Rayleigh asked.
"We weren't exactly looking for it when you found us," Cissnei admitted. "We'd just realized that we were wandering in circles."
"I see," she muttered.
"You got some smarty-pants explanation for this, Prof?" Reno raised his head, just enough to look at her face. His hands clung to each other in a white-knuckled ball. "'Cause I sure could fuckin' use one!"
Rayleigh straightened up and clasped her hands behind her back.
"As a matter of fact, I do," she declared as she positioned herself to address all three of them at once. "As I checked the bookshelves in one of the rooms in the north wing, I noticed mold on several of the books. Nothing severe, but considering the state of that part of the manor, many of the rooms are likely worse off than the ones we have occupied. I imagine the bathrooms are prone to water damage in a house with the bare minimum of upkeep."
Reno's face grew more and more incredulous as he listened.
"What the hell are ya on about?" he cried, shrill with exasperation.
"Mold, Mr. Turk. Fungi, bacteria. Some species of micro-organism are known to produce toxic compounds that affect psychological processes. Prolonged exposure to them can cause paranoia and anxiety, even mild hallucinations–"
"Mild?" The chair screeched along the floor as Reno shot to his feet. "I saw my dead fuckin' mother!"
Rayleigh held up her hands in a placating gesture.
"Calm down, please. I think it's best that I give you a physical examination before we–"
"The hell you will," Reno spat. "Last I checked, you ain't a doctor."
"For the record, I have a doctorate in biotechnology–"
"Wrong kind, genius! I ain't your fuckin' lab rat!"
He took a step toward her. Rude tensed, but Cissnei had already placed a hand on Reno's arm, and for once it was enough to stop him. He glowered at the professor, red in the face and fists clenching.
"Ma'am," Rude warned, drawing close enough to intervene if need be. "This is not the best time."
Rayleigh pressed her lips together and raised her chin.
"Yes, I can see that. Excuse me." She spun on her heel and strode past Rude.
"We should stay together," Cissnei called after her, "until we know what happened."
Rayleigh stopped at the steps to the north wing and turned her head.
"I thought my explanation was satisfactory? Unless you have a better suggestion, I'll be in my room, reading up on safety protocol for airborne toxins. Considering the circumstances, I'd say that's the best use of my time." She gave them a tight-lipped smile. "Don't worry. I'll fetch one of you before I venture into any mold-infested parts of the house."
Rude watched her until she disappeared around the corner. When he turned back to the other Turks, Reno had pulled out a packet of cigarettes and was tapping it against his palm.
"Oh, just fuck everythin'!" He crushed the carton, twisted it up with both hands. "The one time I'd kill for a goddamn smoke."
"No need for that tonight." Cissnei reached into her jacket and pulled out a half-smoked cigarette.
He squinted at it, until realization dawned on his face.
"Hang on. That the one I...?"
She smiled. "Didn't seem right to finish it without you."
Reno opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. After a few moments he gave her a timid smile, and plucked the cigarette from her hand with unsteady fingers.
As Reno brought out his lighter, Rude wandered over to the entrance to the north wing. His body was still buzzing, ready for a fight that never came. He kept pacing over to the junction of corridors to stare down both ends. He didn't like leaving the dark zone unwatched. He didn't like leaving the professor unguarded.
Rude glanced over his shoulder. Cissnei and Reno were all smiles now, chatting quietly over the cigarette they were sharing. He didn't like that, either. If Reno really had been in trouble, how could he bounce back so swiftly? Was this all just another act, a way to distract them from the fact that he'd been an unrepentant asshole since the day they arrived?
He flinched when the trill of a PHS sounded from the foyer. Cissnei passed the cigarette to Reno and pulled hers out. After a brief call, she exchanged a few words with Reno, then made her way over to Rude.
"Rayleigh called," she said. "She wants to check something out and asked for backup." She looked back at Reno with a small frown, then lowered her voice. "You stay with him, okay? Keep an eye on him, maybe get him to eat or drink something."
Rude sighed and nodded.
Reno followed him so closely on their way downstairs that Rude could have sworn he felt the guy's breath on his arm. Rude had to keep stifling the urge to whip his elbow back and knock him out of his personal space.
Once they stepped into the kitchen, Reno's eyes lit up as they fell upon the wine bottle Cissnei had left uncorked on the counter.
"Oh, thank fuck."
He grabbed the bottle, pulled out a chubby mug from a cupboard, and filled it to the brim. Rude watched with growing disbelief as he chugged it all back in one go. He and Cissnei had intended to have a glass or two, sure, but that was before they had found a fellow Turk poking holes in himself with a knife. Something was up, and they needed their wits about them to figure it out.
"You're on a mission," Rude scolded, as Reno slapped his mug down on the counter with a hollow clunk.
"I know I'm on a fuckin' mission! Why d'ya think I'm stickin' around instead gunnin' straight for the chopper?"
Reno looked over at the bottle and raised his hand, but Rude nabbed it first and slid it out of reach. Reno huffed.
"Look, man, just fuck off and do whatever. I don't need a goddamn babysitter."
Rude crossed his arms over his chest and stayed put. Reno threw his head back with a groan.
"Fine! Have it your way. But if I gotta stay in this house with you assholes, then I'm gonna drink 'til I pass out."
With that he lunged forward and grabbed the bottle, then leapt back out of Rude's reach. By the time Rude managed to tear it from his hands, Reno had poured half the bottle down his throat. He stared up at Rude with a feverish grin, his chin and shirt spattered with red wine.
"You've had enough," Rude growled. "Go sleep it off."
Reno laughed; a shrill laugh that echoed through the empty hallways around them.
"I ain't sleepin' here. In case you hadn't noticed, buddy, there's somethin' real fuckin' wrong with this place."
Oh, Rude had noticed, all right. He'd noticed his gun, his phone, his pillow, his fucking shades. He'd been jumping out of his skin for days, all because of his insufferable shit of a partner, who'd spent his days laughing behind Rude's back. He'd stuck with it, though – had done his fucking job to a fucking T – and now that this little jerk got a taste of his own medicine, he was expecting Rude to join his goddamned pity party? To watch this asshole chug down vintage wine like swill? A wine that was most decidedly not made to be guzzled from a fucking mug by some trashy punk with poorer taste than a Costan ship rat!
"Getting drunk won't fix that," Rude bit out, clinging to his calm.
"Sure it will. Won't be sleepin' if I pass out first, yo."
Reno reached for the bottle again, but Rude yanked it away and set it down behind him on the kitchen table. Reno smacked his hand on the countertop, and glared hotly at him through the mess of hair that hung in his face.
"You're gonna be a fuckin' asshole about this? Really?"
One second Rude was standing still, glaring back at Reno. The next second Reno's shirt was scrunched up in his fists as he loomed over the little bastard.
"Want to know what's wrong with this place?" He twisted Reno's shirt around his fists and yanked him up on his toes. "You!"
"What the hell!" The scrawny jerk clawed at his wrists, tried to pull them away. "The fuck is your problem?"
"I thought you were a Turk, but all I see is a whiny pissant punk who doesn't know how to wear a suit."
Reno's face screwed up in a grimace, his eyes alight with sudden rage.
"Fuck you, man! I was working the streets long before you rolled up on our doorstep! I'm the senior Turk here and I'm in charge of this fuckin' mission!"
Rude leaned forward, bringing his face right up to Reno's. The wriggling brat froze, his eyes wide and his mouth still for once.
"Then fucking act like it," Rude growled.
He let go, and turned away as Reno slumped against the wall and slid down it. In the silence that followed, Rude put away the bottle and moved the mug into the sink. He hoped the little shit would keep his damned mouth shut for the rest of night.
"You don't know what it was like, man. In that room. You got no fuckin' clue."
Rude slammed a cupboard shut.
"Oh, I've got a clue," he spat through gritted teeth. "I've got lots of fucking clues, thanks to you."
Reno didn't reply. By the time Rude was done putting everything away, the room was still thick with silence. Rude kept his back turned, leaning heavily on the countertop with both hands, until he heard the rustle of fabric and the quiet creak of the kitchen door.
Rude strode into the storage nook behind the kitchen and fetched one of the glasses he and Cissnei had drank from before. A glass with a foot, its bowl paper-thin and beautifully curved. Back in the kitchen, Rude filled it halfway with wine. He held it up to the light, admired the deep, rich shade of maroon. He rolled it around the glass, took a whiff. He was too agitated to pick out specific notes, but the familiar motions worked their magic. By the time he let the first sip wash over his tongue, he could let go enough to close his eyes.
What a disaster of an evening. All he'd wanted was to wind down with a glass of wine. Get a fire going, maybe. Have a quiet chat with Cissnei. Recover from the slow, wearying hell of doubting his own senses. Rude smiled darkly as he thought back on Reno's breakdown. About time the little jerk learned what it was like. After everything he'd put Rude through, he had it coming. He deserved it. He deserved worse.
Rude's smile faded. The deeper those vicious thoughts burrowed into his mind, the less they felt like his own. He remembered the horrified look on Reno's face, as he came to on the bed in the dark zone; remembered his trembling hands and shaky voice. He wouldn't wish that on a fellow Turk, would he? His own partner?
Now that Rude had had a chance to calm down, his earlier thoughts felt foreign to him, too. So what if Reno drank wine from a mug and couldn't tell a Costan vintage from Mideel plonk? So what if he was young? He was no kid, and he was certainly no brat.
Yet still the anger fermented inside Rude, festering, wriggling beneath his skin like worms.
What if Rayleigh was right about molds and toxins? And what if Reno wasn't the only one afflicted by them?
The wine on Rude's tongue had soured into something he could barely swallow. He smacked the glass down on the table and hurried from the kitchen.
The foyer was silent and empty. Rude climbed the stairs two at a time and headed straight for their bedrooms. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he slowed. The nearest wall light had burned out, leaving a sooty mark on the wallpaper and cloaking this half of the hall in shadow. Silhouetted against the light at the other end of the corridor sat Reno, slumped against the wall, facing the door to his bedroom. As Rude approached, one measured step at a time, his eye caught movement at Reno's bended knee. He was spinning something in his fingers; it was too dark to make out what it was.
Dread spread down Rude's limbs like frost.
"Reno?"
Sluggishly, the redhead raised his chin and glanced at Rude's face. He scoffed as he looked away again.
"Don't look so freaked out, man. I'm fine."
"You're sitting in a hallway. In the middle of the night."
"Yeah, well... Mostly fine." Reno's laugh was a hollow thing. "But hey, Ciss still has my knife, so ain't like you gotta worry about it."
When Rude stepped closer, he could see that what twirled in Reno's hands was an old-fashioned key. He breathed out.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, y'know. Just hangin' out." Another toneless laugh.
"You're drunk. Go to bed."
"I know, I know. I was gonna head straight in and crash, but then I got here... And I just kept thinkin'..." The key spun faster and faster in his hand. "What if it's El I see next?"
It was barely more than a whisper. Reno covered his eyes with a hand. His giggle climbed a pitch higher, and it went on far too long.
Rude realized he'd heard the name before. Reno had mentioned it when he was talking about his mother.
"El… Your sister?"
"Yeah. Ariel." He thumped his head back against the wall and looked up at Rude. "You got any sisters?"
Rude shook his head. "Two brothers."
"Both of 'em still in Costa?"
Rude nodded.
"That's cool, man. That's cool."
Reno watched him a while, perhaps waiting for more. When nothing came, he turned back toward the door in front of them. He stared at it, unblinking, as if he hoped to bore through the wood with his gaze.
"Our place in the slums wasn't much bigger than my room here, y'know. Had its own bathroom, just like this one, and some sorry excuse for a kitchen in one corner. I had a mattress by the window. Ma and El shared the bed. When you opened the door, the bed was on the left." He paused and swallowed several times. "Just like this one."
Rude wasn't sure where this was heading, but he had the feeling it was nowhere good.
"I don't wanna see her like that again, man." Reno threw a hand over his eyes and squeezed tight. "I can't fuckin' see her like that."
What was it Reno had whispered in his despair? Rude couldn't recall the exact words, but it had been something about his sister. On the bed, bleeding.
"Fuckin' pathetic, ain't it?" Reno's bark of laughter sounded more like a sob. "Some Turk I am, huh? Can't even open my own fuckin' bedroom–"
"...I'll check."
If anything, that made Reno's shoulders sag further, and he offered up his key without a word. He said nothing as Rude approached the door either, just sucked in one ragged breath after another, faster and faster.
The door swung open without a sound. Reno's bed was a mess of rumpled sheets and pillows flung randomly about, but it was devoid of people, dead or dying or whole. At the foot of the bed Reno's suitcase lay open, its contents spilling over the edges and onto the floor. More clothes were heaped by the bathroom door.
"Clear."
A few seconds later Reno appeared in the doorway. He leaned in to peer around, and only stepped inside once he'd surveyed the whole room. He carefully avoided meeting Rude's eyes, even as he turned to face him.
"Look, uh..." Reno reached up to rub the back of his neck. "I kinda need a shower."
Rude nodded and turned to leave.
"Good night."
"Shit, that wasn't what I meant! Don't go, man, please!"
He froze mid-step. Reno spewed thousands of words at him every day, but "please" was not one Rude had ever heard from his lips.
Reno still stared at the floor, and was shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"I… don't wanna be in there alone," he mumbled.
It took Rude a few moments to parse what he was actually asking. His mouth fell open, just as the redhead peeked up at him through his bangs. Reno's cautious glance turned into a scowl.
"The fuck are ya lookin' at me like that for?"
"You want me to... join you?"
"Not in the shower, man. Just… be in the same room."
Reno said it as if that made it perfectly okay. Rude was not inclined to agree.
"That would be... weird."
"What's so weird about it? Ain't like you'd be the first guy to ever see me bare-assed. Hell, ain't like you've never seen me bare-assed either, yo."
It was true; Reno wasn't shy in the locker room after sparring or visits to the HQ gym. There were usually more guys than just the two of them, though, and Rude was there to shower and change too.
"I'd just be watching. Like some creep."
"So watch the walls or somethin'! Ain't like you gotta ogle me the whole time."
With a tired sigh, Rude pushed his fingers in under his shades and rubbed his eyes.
"I'd ask Ciss, but she's mooning over some beefed-up SOLDIER boy," Reno rambled on. "The last thing she wants to see right now is my scrawny ass."
Or the last thing Reno wanted right now, Rude mused, was an unfavorable comparison.
"She and I have one thing in common."
Reno didn't laugh. He didn't even flash a grin. He just seemed to shrink a little more.
"Ehh, fuck it. Could always try my luck with the Prof again, see if she wants to do it in the shower. Let her have that 'physical exam' she wanted. Or, hey, maybe she won't kick me out after if I tell her about my 'mild hallucinations'. Maybe that'll be enough to keep her interested 'til mornin'."
He began to giggle. It was the only word Rude find for the sound that came out his partner as he stood there, kneading his eyelids with his fingertips.
"Hell, if it ain't, I can just keep tellin' her about myself. Enough fucked-up shit in my head to keep us awake for weeks, yo!"
Reno wasn't making that sound anymore, but his shoulders were shaking. It might have been laughter that he struggled to contain; Rude feared it was something else.
"…I'll stay."
Reno grew still after a few moments and looked up hesitantly. His brow creased as he searched Rude's face. Then, his eyes went wide.
"Oh shit, I fucked it up again, didn't I? Look, man, I'm just mouthin' off. You don't want me near her, just say the word. I'll stay away, I swear."
"Reno. Get in the shower."
Hope bloomed cautiously on Reno's face.
"Really? You'll come with?"
Rude nodded. "If you promise not to sing."
Reno's bathroom was smaller than the one down the hall. The only place to sit was the toilet, which faced the bathtub and shower. Rude squeezed his legs against the cupboard under the sink and contorted himself toward the door. Mrs. Gubbins may have made sure the rooms were cleaned and the beds made, but she hadn't seen to every itty bitty detail – such as shower curtains. As long as Rude kept his eyes fixed on the door, though, Reno's pale buttocks blended in with the off-white tile in the periphery of his vision.
"Rude?"
He grunted, then realized Reno wouldn't hear him over the sound of running water. "Yeah?"
"I made a mess of things, huh?"
Rude didn't respond right away. Reno shifted, and a spray of water hit the side of Rude's head.
"You're making a mess right now," he griped as he wiped his scalp, grateful for the distraction.
"Oh. Whoops."
Rude's sunglasses were already misting up. No wonder there never seemed to be enough hot water for everyone in the mornings.
"Look, that spooky stuff I did? Hidin' stuff, lockin' doors and all that? I just figured it'd give ya somethin' else to think about. Get your mind off things, y'know? I never thought it'd be like... like the..."
Reno's voice echoed off the tiled walls at first, but by the end Rude could barely make out his words over the splash of water.
"I know."
"And tryin' to set ya up with the Prof, that was more of the same. Just trying to help, y'know, to make it easier for ya to get over–"
"Reno. We don't have to talk."
"I'd kinda wanna?" Reno said with a nervous laugh. "Don't want it all quiet in here when I gotta close my eyes. Bit hard to wash my hair with my eyes open, y'know? Or maybe you don't, Cue Ball. Just so ya know, shampoo in the eyes stings like a sonuvabitch, yo."
Rude sighed. "Fine. But talk about something else."
"Okay, man. Okay."
Was Reno trying to boil himself? Rude unzipped his jacket, loosened his tie. That didn't help with the humidity, though.
"Think Ciss will be okay? She had a point, y'know, about stickin' together. Don't like her bein' alone in this fucked-up place."
"She's with Rayleigh."
"Yeah," Reno sighed, "guess you're right. Ain't no way the Prof would agree to hole up in here with all of us, anyhow. She's gettin' more and more uptight every day, ain't she?"
Rude tried to let the words wash over him like water from a shower, but that only made him too aware of his surroundings. The stream of prattle made it impossible for him to concentrate on his own thoughts. In the end it was easier just to listen as Reno rambled on about Rayleigh, Cissnei and Mrs. Gubbins.
"Right, I'm done. Hand me that towel, will ya? And, uh, unless you want my ass in your face you might wanna get out of the way. This room ain't built for two, yo."
Rude extricated himself from his perch, pulled down the towel hanging on the bathroom door, and left it behind him on the toilet seat. He opened the door but stayed in the doorway, feet on either side of the threshold, welcoming the cool air that rushed in.
Reno turned off the water. The sudden silence was eerie, but it wasn't long before Rude heard bare, wet feet slapping on the floor tiles, followed by the soft rustle of a towel.
"'Kay, got the naughty bits covered now."
With a sigh that was as much relief as exasperation, Rude escaped into the bedroom. Never mind the heat and humidity. He was pretty sure at least three quarters of his discomfort came from Reno's commentary alone.
He glanced as Reno passed him on the way to the bed, then did a double take. His shoulder blade was a mottle of discolored skin. The bruise had already turned an angry purple that was yellowing at the edges. Reno would often boast that he healed quickly, and in the couple of years they had worked together Rude had found there was truth to it. With a sinking feeling he remembered their scuffle a few days ago. Reno must have hit the wall hard, to end up with a mark like that. Harder than Rude had meant.
"Your shoulder okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Reno rolled the shoulder in a slow circle. "It's fine. Good to go, yo."
He turned away as he checked his shoulder, but Rude didn't need to see his face. He saw the truth in the flinch of Reno's muscles, in his eagerness to avert his eyes.
"Doesn't look fine."
"I've had worse after sparrin'. Don't worry about it, man."
Had it been from sparring, Reno would have griped and groused until Rude promised to buy a round of drinks at the nearest bar after work. Here was the perfect chance to guilt Rude into fetching him a six-pack of beer from town, and Reno hadn't even tried. Rude frowned.
Using materia was pointless so late in the healing process. He was about to offer painkillers, when the thought of medication made him pause. Reno had trouble sleeping at the best of times. Did he take sleeping pills? Had he brought any? Enough… for an overdose?
What about weapons? Reno carried more than a knife and a mag rod, Rude knew that much. As he swept his eyes around the room, he noticed far too many risks, ones he hadn't thought twice about before. Reno's belt, still snaked through the loops of his trousers. The long laces of his boots. The persistent tremble in Reno's fingers as he rubbed his eyes.
"I feel like I've rolled down that whole damn mountain we got outside," he muttered as he shuffled over to the bed. He didn't throw himself onto it, or even flop down. He just sagged into it without a sound, like an empty sack sinking to the floor.
Rude stepped over to the closet and teased it quietly open. Several empty hangers dangled inside. He removed his jacket and hung it up, then his holster, his tie, his gloves and his shoes. Reno remained still with his eyes closed as Rude approached the bed, but he jumped at the first tug on the covers. He pushed himself up on his elbows and watched as Rude smoothed out the covers.
"Uh... What are ya doin'?"
"Staying for a bit." Rude sat down, then stretched out on the half of the bed he had tidied.
Slowly, a smile spread across Reno's face.
"Ten minutes ago you were weirded out by the idea of seeing me take a shower, and now you're jumpin' into bed with me?"
"This house weirds me out more than you."
Reno's smile grew into a broad grin.
"Oh, yeah? I'll bet you peeked during my shower and just couldn't resist–"
"Reno. That wasn't a challenge."
Reno snickered. The exchange seemed more like a performance to Rude, an expectation to fulfill. Whether that performance was for his sake or Reno's, he couldn't tell.
For a while they lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling. Compared to the shower experience, Rude was pretty comfortable. His body was cooling down, his limbs sinking into the mattress. The silence helped, too, though he knew it wouldn't last.
"You said you got brothers, right?"
Rude blinked. Reno's voice had startled him out of the pleasant languor he'd been drifting into. He was more tired than he'd thought. A few more minutes and he might have dozed off.
"I'm guessin' you're a bunch of fit, bald Costan dudes in different sizes," Reno continued. "Like those sets of dolls you've got over there, y'know? The ones that all fit into each other?"
"Grangalan dolls."
"Yeah, like those. That's what I'm seein' in my head. Am I right?"
"Not even close."
"Damn." With a dry chuckle, Reno clasped his hands behind his head. "So what're they like?"
"Teo is the oldest. He's like you."
"Yeah? Good-lookin', funny, boatloads of charm?"
"Skinny asshole."
Reno snorted. "That stings, yo."
"He has a piercing studio near the main beach. Does tattoos, too."
"Yeah?" He turned is head just enough for a glance at Rude's ear. "Did he do yours?"
"Most of them."
"What about the other one?"
"Name's Vidal. Concierge at La Joya Hotel."
Reno gave a low whistle.
"Now that's one helluva place. Nice bar, too."
A playground for the rich and famous, that's what it was, all elegance and unctuous finery – hence a popular choice among the Shinra executives. Growing up, Rude never dreamed he'd end up as a regular at La Joya. Perks of the job.
And a far cry from their current accommodations. He nearly laughed out loud as he thought of Vidal surveying the rooms of Shinra Manor. He'd pay good gil to see the look on his brother's face. The dust alone would give the guy night terrors for weeks.
His amusement faded when it occurred to him that might literally be true.
"You see much of 'em these days?"
Rude glanced to his left. He could see Reno's bony feet, loosely crossed at the ankles. His arm draped over his waist just above the towel; his thin fingers no longer rolled into a fist, but gently curled against his stomach. Of course Reno would be one to be soothed by chatter. With a small sigh, Rude resigned himself to an evening of it.
"Not really."
"The job, huh?"
Rude hummed.
He'd told his parents he worked in security at Shinra. It was both true enough and vague enough. People barely knew what Shinra was back home on the island.
The mainland was different. Vidal had heard enough rumors about the Turks that he'd kept his distance from Rude after seeing him in the suit. Teo knew, too – though he didn't seem to care. Neither had said anything to their parents, Rude was sure of that. His mother would have called him on the spot to give him an earful.
He'd been back to Costa a few times since signing up with Shinra: babysitting the bigwigs, recruiting for SOLDIER, reconnaissance. When had he last seen more of his homeland than the conference rooms, the hotel suites, the underground fighting rings?
"You have a week off next month?" Rude asked.
"Yeah, first week of August. Same as you. So long as nothin' important blows up, of course."
"Want to go to Costa?"
Reno turned his head to stare at him.
"Huh? With you?"
Rude nodded. Reno's mouth slowly fell open.
"Seriously?"
"Could rent a boat. Tour the islands."
"Hit the beach bars in the evenings," Reno said carefully, as if tasting the idea on his tongue. "Hey, you could introduce me to that asshole brother of yours. Been thinkin' about gettin' somethin' cool on my shoulder, here."
He propped himself up on an elbow and twisted around, then tapped his right shoulder – the one with an uneven scar, right along the bony ridge of his shoulder blade. Gunshot wound, Rude had surmised.
"As long as I don't have to hold your hand and listen to you squeal."
Reno laughed. "Fuck you too, man." He flopped back down on the bed and folded an arm under his head. "You wanna visit your island, too? Isla, uh... Arbo, right?"
Rude shrugged. "It's boring."
"Y'know, after today... Borin' doesn't sound too bad, yo."
Arching an eyebrow, Rude turned his head toward his partner.
"Yeah, yeah," Reno said with a dismissive wave. "Look, it was just a thought. Whatever." His smile, anemic to begin with, began to fade.
"It's boring…," Rude said again, still feeling his way, "…but the food's good. Good enough to stop by."
"Yeah? You miss your mama's cookin'?"
Rude shrugged again. This time, Reno's chuckle rang true.
"If she's the one you learned your cookin' from, I don't blame ya one bit."
It occurred to Rude that a Midgar slum kid like Reno had likely never gone fishing. He couldn't see Reno enjoying it for more than five minutes, but that might be enough in one of the better fishing spots on the island. And the taste of freshly-caught fish, after his mother had worked her magic on it... Rude smiled.
"You'll like it."
And she'd like having Reno around, ready to devour anything and everything she cooked. Here at last was someone who could match her verbal barrage – even if only in a different language. Reno's Costan was improving, though. Maybe he'd end up fluent by the end of a week.
"So... What're the not-borin' islands like?"
Rude pondered his answer a while. Summing them up in a word or two was woefully insufficient. Just thinking about all the sentences he would need to speak of the islands, in the detail with which he pictured them in his mind, made his throat itch.
Reno was watching him, his eyes round and expectant. There was life in them again; a spark of excitement.
Reno wasn't hoping for just a word or two.
Rude cast his mind's eye to one of his favorite spots. He recalled the rough rock of the cliff, the heat of it stinging his soles. He pictured the turquoise water some twenty feet below, glittering in a blinding flash as the sun hit the surface just right. His stomach fluttered at the memory of the final, frantic second before the jump.
Rude cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and began translating it all into words.